A Lieutenant's Pip: Resolution
by CrlkSeasons
Summary: Celebration at last. The fourth and final story in the set.


Three times Tom didn't celebrate his lieutenant's pip and one time that he did. This is the last story in the set.

 **A Lieutenant's Pip**

 **Resolution**

Tom held the small pip close to his eye. He twisted it between his thumb and forefinger, trying to catch the faint glow of light from the bathroom in the pip's shiny black surface.

Tom had been awestruck by the profound darkness of space. He'd known the mind numbing blackness of despair. Neither came close to matching the depth of the helplessness he'd felt when B'Elanna volunteered to accompany Captain Janeway on the mission to the Borg ship.

Tom had been in dangerous situations. He'd felt fear. But he'd never felt fear like that before, knowing he was powerless to protect B'Elanna. Now he understood what the human B'Elanna had meant in the Vidiian mines when she told him that the fear she felt was completely new to her.

Events on Voyager had moved along so quickly. He got his rank pip back. They received a distress call. The Captain decided to infiltrate a Borg cube and Tuvok and B'Elanna volunteered to go with her.

All Tom wanted to do then was to slow the universe down so they could find another solution, one that didn't put B'Elanna and the others in such danger. There'd been no other way. There'd only been the minutes, then the hours he waited while B'Elanna, Tuvok and the Captain were assimilated by the Borg. The fact that it was all part of the Captain's plan didn't help one bit. Even the best plans can go terribly wrong. Tom's stomach still rebelled at the thought of B'Elanna and the others trapped in the Borg hive, forced to spend the rest of their existence as drones.

At least he'd been able to express his concerns. Acting Captain Chakotay hadn't laughed him out of the ready room when Tom staked a claim to the position of Acting First Officer. He had a chance to question Chakotay's orders. It didn't change Chakotay's mind, but it was still better than biting his tongue at the helm.

In the end, Voyager got them all back safely. The Captain and Tuvok were slowly healing in sickbay. B'Elanna recovered the fastest. Her Klingon genes battled fiercely against the Borg implants. She insisted that she was well enough to return to her quarters. She claimed that if the Doctor didn't let her out soon the décor in sickbay would trigger a relapse.

Doc had grumbled at her impatience to leave sickbay. She had grumbled back.

So B'Elanna was back home in her quarters. She was safe. She was well. Everything was all right again. Except Tom couldn't bear to let her out of his sight.

He told himself that he was a fool to worry. He'd assisted the Doctor in surgery. He'd seen all the positive indicators in B'Elanna's medical chart. Yet he couldn't shake the fear that her recovery was an illusion. He was afraid that if he went away, even for a moment, he'd return to find her encased in implants - or worse. She'd be gone, transported back to the Borg ship.

Tom watched as B'Elanna slept peacefully in her bed. The medic in him noted her even breathing. The lover in him noticed her soft skin and its healthy glow, even in the areas once covered by the Borg implants. Okay, maybe he couldn't completely separate himself into different parts.

Tom reached over to trace the area around B'Elanna's eye where a Borg optical implant would have been affixed. He was glad that the Borg hadn't used that particular piece of equipment on B'Elanna. She would have been so mad if she ended up looking like Seven. Tom chuckled softly and retraced the outline of B'Elanna's eye, this time following its natural contours.

Tom drew his hand back and hugged himself. He was cold. Why the hell was he so cold? B'Elanna was the one who always complained about the temperature. Her quarters were warmer than anywhere else on the ship except for Harry's quarters and Neelix's kitchen.

Tom grabbed the extra blanket from the foot of B'Elanna's bed and wrapped it around his shoulders. He sat on the floor rocking back and forth, trying to make sense of his emotions.

Tom clutched the black pip tightly in the palm of his hand. It was strange. He'd spent the last year chasing after this trinket. Now, days after getting it back he'd been ready to throw it away to grasp at a chance to keep B'Elanna safe. Maybe it was the universe's idea of irony. Why should this make sense when the rest of his world had turned upside down?

"Hey."

Tom stopped rocking and turned to see a pair of sleepy brown eyes staring at him. "You're awake," he smiled.

"I guess so. What are you doing on the floor?"

"Thinking."

"About what?"

"You, mainly. It's okay. Go back to sleep. You need your rest."

"I can go back to sleep later. Tell me what's bothering you," she insisted.

Tom frowned at the pip in his hand. "You could have died."

B'Elanna took a deep breath. She'd expected this. "I know. But so could you, many times. You're the one who always flies those dangerous missions."

"You never said anything."

"I didn't want you to stop doing what you had to do. Sometimes I did wonder why you always had to be the one out there." B'Elanna shifted so she could lean closer to the edge of the bed. She rested her chin on her folded arms.

"After, when we got those messages, I stopped feeling much of anything. I shut down for a while. I pulled all sorts of dangerous stunts to feel alive again. But that's not why I volunteered for the Borg mission. I knew that the mission had a greater chance of succeeding if I went along. It was something I had to do."

Tom nodded. "I guess some things are so important that they're worth the risk." He fingered a lock of B'Elanna's hair. "I'm just not used to you being the one in the line of fire. I'm used to thinking of you safe down in engineering."

"Safe? You think that it's safe working beside an active warp core?"

"You know what I mean."

"I know. But don't try to cage me or change who I am."

"I won't. I don't want to stop you doing what you have to do either. But it isn't easy." Tom looked down at his hand and then held up the pip so she could see it. "I wish I could understand how I feel about this."

"What do you mean?"

"As far back as I can remember, all I ever wanted to do was fly. When I got into Starfleet, the command track was my father's idea, not mine. Then we were pulled into the Delta Quadrant. The Captain trusted me and needed me to be more than a pilot. I never considered turning her down."

Tom placed the pip on the bed beside B'Elanna. "Being a senior officer was part of my life on Voyager. Everyone on the ship had to chip in with the skills they had to offer." Tom shot a mischievous grin at B'Elanna. "Although they did have to drag me kicking and screaming to my shifts in sickbay." Tom sighed. "Now I think that fighting command so hard was dumb. I mean I spent my whole life struggling to make my own decisions – and to live with the consequences. Why was I so against making decisions that have an even bigger impact?"

B'Elanna shrugged. "I don't know. Why?"

Tom grimaced. "Maybe I thought I'd mess those up too. Maybe it's as simple as back then it was my father's idea. Stupid, huh?"

"Maybe," she agreed, softening her reply by caressing his cheek. "And now?" she prompted.

"Now it's my idea too. I think that command isn't as bad as I told myself it would be. I know I can do it." He frowned. "But there are other things that matter to me too. I meant it when I said that I could live without this extra pip if I had to."

B'Elanna studied the pip. She remembered the man who'd worn it before. She considered the man who would wear it now. She tugged on Tom's arm to pull him up onto the bed and put the pip back in his hand.

Tom tightened his fingers around it before sitting carefully on the edge of the bed, making sure that B'Elanna had enough room. He stared down at her beautiful face. How could words ever convey to this woman that, no matter how much he loved flying and was proud of what he had accomplished on Voyager, she was his life.

B'Elanna smoothed the frown lines from Tom's forehead. "Maybe you should put the pip back on," she suggested. "Give yourself a chance to get used to it again." She took the pip and pinned it on the collar of his t-shirt, then found his gold one on her side table and pinned it on too. "There. That's better."

She rolled over on the bed and patted the space beside her.

Tom took the hint and climbed in.

B'Elanna placed his hand on her waist. She felt him begin to relax. "That's _much_ better," she murmured. She gently stroked his arm. "When I said that I'd always be proud of you, I meant it. I still mean it. I don't care if you're an ensign, a lieutenant or whatever. Do what you feel is important and let me chase after the Borg if that's what I have to do."

Tom nodded reluctantly. "Yes, ma'am." He didn't like it, but he knew she was right.

Having made her point B'Elanna added with a teasing smile, "There _is_ one reason that I'm glad you have your lieutenant's pip back."

Tom wrinkled his nose in surprise. "There is?"

"I haven't had an opportunity to f*ck a lieutenant in ages. I've started to miss the difference."

He caught the teasing tone in her voice. "You mean you were tempted to check out other lieutenants? I'm hurt!"

"Don't be. I waited for one particular lieutenant to come along, one who likes to live dangerously." She sat up and moved to straddle his hips.

Tom checked his breathing. "So, there's a difference between f*cking an ensign and f*cking a lieutenant?" he asked, struggling to maintain his feigned innocence.

"Yes, there is," She leaned in to breathe on his neck above the t-shirt collar with its line of pips. "It's not a big difference, but it's there." She sat back and stared into his eyes. "An ensign is sweet and he's certainly a lot of fun. But a lieutenant! Well! There's swagger in that extra pip."

"Oh?"

She let her fingers slowly trace a path from his pips down his chest. "It travels all the way down to here." She tracked a route down toward a very sensitive region.

"Uh huh?" Tom managed, his breathing getting heavy.

She leaned in again, "So, you up for it, Lieutenant?"

Tom held it together long enough to ask a question of his own. "Um, B'Elanna, are you sure this is a good idea. I mean, are _you_ up for this? You've been through quite an ordeal."

In response B'Elanna growled, "What do you think?"

"I think I'm being stupid again."

B'Elanna grinned down at Tom. "And _I_ think it's time we celebrated the difference."

Tom agreed. He pulled her toward him, rolled to change their positions and grinned back. Low moans, energetic growls, a variety of thuds and, above all, delighted laughter told deck nine section twelve that intimate relations had resumed in the Chief Engineer's quarters .


End file.
